


winter covers everything

by SapphireOcean (JujYFru1T)



Series: JujY's polyship fleet [19]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Character, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Multi, Not Beta Read, Pansexual Character, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Rare Pairings, Time Skips, bc i ain't breaking up a happy family for this trash, but dw the triplets are still here~, in which Yuko never marries Takeshi, sort of.....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25943611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JujYFru1T/pseuds/SapphireOcean
Summary: When she’s twelve, Yuko Ishikawa falls in love with Yuri Katsuki. When she’s fourteen, she falls in love with Victor Nikiforov. When she's twenty-five, Victor comes to Hasetsu.A chronicle of those moments, and of everything in between.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Nishigori Yuuko, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov/Nishigori Yuuko, Nishigori Takeshi & Nishigori Yuuko, Nishigori Takeshi/Original Female Character, Victor Nikiforov/Nishigori Yuuko
Series: JujY's polyship fleet [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1436341
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9
Collections: WIP Big Bang 2020





	winter covers everything

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe the ot3 ship tag actually exists. (Of course it's a spam/crack fic that doesn't actually have the ship but beggars can't be choosers can we~) ~~idk mine's prob a crack fic too but I don't caaaareeee~~ anyway the longer I waited to write this the trashier it became. I swear on my life Victuri is still the OTP, but I can't help this bc I am also rarepolyship trash oTL I got this rabid plotbunny three eps in and it wouldn't let go until I wrote it. keep it to myself?? lmao naaah why would I do thaaaaaaaaaaat (don’t make me turn on modded comments plz~)
> 
> Fast forward 4 goddamn years and the aptly named [Finish Your Sh&^](https://wipbigbang.dreamwidth.org/) big bang finally got me to… finish my shit. ^w^ many many thanks to the fabulous [greygerbil](https://tmblr.co/mPnwYTWjXGDnYdkYLPPL3hA) who contributed wonderful [ cover art,](%E2%80%9C) and the equally fabulous ashling, who made a hecking moodboard!! *screams into hands* Thank you both so much!!!
> 
> Title from the Zankyou no Terror OP (interestingly, only the TV size version). It fit the mood way back when I started writing; now I'm... not sure but also can't imagine any other title.

**one**

When she’s twelve, Yuko Ishikawa falls in love with Yuri Katsuki. 

Yuko’s the first to admit that when they first met, she really liked him looking up to her like she was his world, eyes big and trusting. And defending him against bullies made her feel invincible; it still does. She’s no fool. The ego-boost certainly doesn’t hurt, but that was only a starting point. Falling for Yuri was inevitable, as logical as moon phases. He’s her best friend, earnest and sweet, and skating means so much to him, like it does to her. 

The next step, then, is also logical.

“Yuri-kun, we should get married when we’re old enough,” she tells him, whirling past him on the rink, pirouetting with joy.

“Huh?” He avoids skidding into the wall just in time, moving along it instead. “Why?” he stammers, flushing. 

Her heart flips. _He’s so cute._ “Because! Then we can compete as a pair, and we’ll show everyone we’re the best skaters in Japan.”

He smiles then, skating after her to catch her hands, and she stares at him and feels her stomach drop and the air racing around them. 

“No way,” he says, leaning in close. “We’ll be the best in the world!”

“And I’ll coach you,” hollers Takeshi, zooming by inches away.

“Takeshi,” she yelps, and Yuri laughs, beaming at her.

She feels like she’s flying.

**two**

When she’s fourteen, Yuko Ishikawa falls in love with Victor Nikiforov. 

A tidal wave of feelings crashes over her the first time she watches him move on the ice. He looks like an angel, the sequins in his costume making a thousand rainbows in the light. It’s different and darker than her childhood crush on Yuri ( _but she’s still a child_ ), like she’s drowning on land—and what’s scary is she _wants_ to drown.

“You have to watch this,” she tells Yuri. She watches Yuri’s face instead of the video, having seen it at least forty times by now.

Yuri’s eyes transform into beacons of awe, and Yuko swallows around her rapid heartbeat, breaths coming too short. She sees everything she’s feeling and more on his face. She remembers that she loves him, that he’s real and here and more important than the beautiful boy on her phone who’s trying to pull her under to a scary new world.

But she can see Yuri’s falling right along with her, headlong and (his smile hits her like a tractor beam) unafraid. 

Maybe this world is one they’ll explore together.

(When she thinks of that moment years later, she realizes that’s when everything changed.)

**three**

Yuri kisses her when she’s seventeen. 

She forgets whatever sentence she was in the middle of. Face aflame, she yanks a hand to her mouth the instant he pulls away. “Wh-Wh-what was that for?”

“Happy birthday, Yu-chan.” He seems unruffled by her less-than-polite reaction.

“You can’t just do things like that without warning!” she squawks through her hand. But he pulls her into a hug, and she throws her arms around him, and she can’t remember the last time she’s been so happy…

She sighs, nuzzles his shoulder. “But… I didn’t really mind. I like you a lot, too.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t wrong.” His voice is warm in her ear.

A moment passes, and then she pulls back, arms still around him. Half-formed words crowd her mind, kept down by the way he’s looking at her, so she just smiles instead. 

“Yu-chan? Can I kiss you?”

Her face warms again. “Yes. Please.” As she leans in, she whispers, “Thanks for the warning.”

His soft laughter fills her mouth.

**four**

Yuri moves to Detroit soon after Yuko turns twenty.

Rather than going on to college, Yuko chooses to stay in Hasetsu and work at Ice Castle. Skating is her life as much as it is Yuri’s, though it’s manifested differently for both of them. Around when she entered high school, she realized her dream was to teach skating, and that dream coalesced into her current job, with Takeshi as her co-worker: giving skating lessons to the 10-and-under set. There’s nothing like watching a kid’s eyes light up when they learn how to glide or make a small jump. What could be better than passing her love of figure skating on to the next generation? She still skates too, by herself, or with Takeshi, or with Yuri; in a town as sleepy as Hasetsu, there’s no shortage of free time.

A particularly rowdy and determined set of triplets, all girls, have taken to her like ducklings, and she sees a lot of herself in them. Plus, their names are Axel, Lutz, and Loop. If their parents are _that_ obsessed with skating, that makes them all right in Yuko’s book. Only their mom has stopped by during lessons. She’s taken a shine to Yuko much like her daughters have, insisting at their first meeting that Yuko call her Satoko-chan; they’ve even gone to lunch a couple of times thanks to Takeshi keeping watch. As open as Satoko is, prying into her personal life would be impolite. 

Yuri’s met the triplets too. It took them all of three seconds to dub themselves the leaders of Yuri Katsuki’s official fan club. Unsurprisingly, they know about Celestino Cialdini, the coach who Yuri’s leaving to train under. Even their enthusiasm doesn’t stop Yuri from worrying.

“Of course you have to go,” she says when Yuri expresses doubts about Detroit. “Celestino is fantastic! If you missed this opportunity for me, I couldn’t forgive you.” She keeps her tone glib, giving him a wink for good measure. The truth is that she won’t forgive herself if he stays for her. 

_We’ll make it work._

“We’ll make it work,” he says, eyes bright with determination.

~~~~~

It’s been two and a half years since she and Yuri have gotten together, and their relationship hasn’t changed much aside from the hand-holding, kisses and cuddles… and multiple second bases, a few bordering on third. 

(One time, slightly drunk, she said half-seriously “What about Victor?” and they both collapsed into hysterics. She still isn’t sure if it was really a joke.)

Somehow without actually having the conversation, they agreed their “true” first time should wait until after Yuri turns 18. (How soon after? She is, frankly, mortified at the idea of birthday sex and there’s _no way_ she’s going to ask him.) They’ve talked, fumblingly, about what they do alone, even ventured into phone sex territory-- which is to say she traded a fantasy to hear one of his and replayed their conversation later when alone in her room, slipping her hand into her panties.

His birthday will happen in Detroit this year.

The evening before his flight, what starts as an especially heated makeout session in her room spirals further. He's got his hands under her shirt, her bra having long been forgotten, and her hand’s seeking the waistband of his sweats. The skin there feels hot enough to burn her but _also_ if she stops kissing him she might actually die--

Then her fingertips graze the bulge in his briefs; she gasps, and he whimpers, and the fevered spell breaks for a moment.

“Are you,” she starts. “Is… this okay?”

He nods, humming yes. “B-But if you don’t--”

“I do.” She splays her hand, watching his eyes unfocus. “I _really_ do.”

Suddenly she wants a lot, all at once. She wants him on top of her, she wants his fingers in her mouth, his hand inside her panties, she wants to _taste_ him _..._ It’s an impossible decision but she feels like she has to make it; this is the last time in a long time she’ll be able to touch him, have him touch her.

Hazy-eyed, she wraps her hand around his erection through his briefs and strokes him once, squeezing lightly. She’s leaning in, breathing Yuri’s air, and the way he whines and ruts into her hand jumps her heart rate to a level she might pass out from.

“Y-Yu-chan, oh, Yu-chan.” Eyes shut, he gasps, bucking again.

Entranced, she strokes him again. “It feels good, right?” she says breathlessly, a dumb question that seems right anyway.

“Yes…!” Then he grabs her wrist with a deep moan. “Wait, j-just, wait.” He’s breathing hard, his whole face flushed. “Ah, I don’t-- I don’t want to finish yet.”

Yuko’s face grows hot too, and she stifles a noise as she feels wet soak her panties, a throbbing sensation in her belly and below that makes her bite her lip. Pulling her hand away, she says, in a voice she hardly recognizes, “I want to know what that feels like.”

She jumps as Yuri claps a hand over his mouth, tensing all over. He gives a bitten off grunt and then, with a big exhale, he says quietly, “Me too.”

“ _Yuri-kun._ ” She feels lightheaded, like she might float off the bed. Her other hand finds the bedsheets and digs in. If he reacted like that just to what she _said_... “Did-- did you--”

He laughs airily, shaking his head. “I was really close. D-Don’t know if I can do much before…”

She licks her lips, a shiver running over her. “Before you… come?”

Another nod.

“That’s okay.” Being able to watch him while he does it is enough of a gift. Placing her palm on his chest, she says, “I have another idea.” Nerves and arousal are so strong it’s hard to remember to breathe. Is she really ready for... “You should touch yourself, and-- and I’ll do it too. But I’ll…” She swallows, heart thumping. “I’ll let you see. And you have to let me see.”

Her voice shakes only a little, and she lets herself take a modicum of pride from that while Yuri stares at her, blinking.

“I think…” He reaches for her, hands rucking up her shirt and sliding over her ribs. “I think I like that idea.”

Yuko leans into his touch, shivering. Something seems different about his voice and it’s making her whole body warm. “Okay. Th-Then…” Pulling away from him, she takes hold of her shirt and pulls it off over her head before she can lose her nerve.

It’s the first time she’s let him see her topless. Her face flames, even though he’s felt her up more than enough. The instinct to cross her arms is sharp, but she ignores it, keeping her eyes on him. 

Yuri’s eyes go wide, and darker still. Then he grins, and sits up, and removes his shirt too. “There,” he says as he sets aside his glasses. He’s still smiling when he turns back. “Now we match.”

A giggle pops out of her. “Yeah.” Acutely aware that she’s in nothing but her panties, she digs her fingers into her thigh and tries to breathe properly.

His cheeks redden as he fumbles with his sweatpants. “You’re so pretty, Yu-chan.”

Seriously, how has she not passed out yet?

Now that Yuri’s also underwear only, his blush has darkened, spreading to his neck. She’s about to comment on it just to say _something_ when he reaches forward, putting his hand on her shoulder. “You’re really blushing,” he says softly, moving his fingers down over her collarbone. “All the way to here.”

“W-W-Well, so are you.” She gives what she hopes is a playful pout. “What do you expect when you keep saying such nice things?”

He laughs, eyes crinkling. Then he breathes in, puts both hands on her torso. “Let me help you with your panties. Okay?” His voice is low, and it doesn’t shake. There’s a need in it that Yuko can feel inside her. “I won’t touch, I promise.”

“I touched you,” she blurts, grabbing his wrist. She freezes and so does he. “Sorry. B-But please, I want you to touch me. Just over…”

“Oh!” He nods, hand pliant in her grip. “I understand. Can I still take them off for you?” He bites his lip and adds, “You can help me off with mine. If you want.”

She nods back, need closing her throat. At the look he gives her, she lets go of his wrist. She keeps her eyes on his face.

Then she gasps, a small one, at the heat of his whole palm against her, pressure where she was dying for it. He _moves_ , fingers brushing over her clit through the cotton, and his name comes out of her mouth in a tone she’s never used when he could hear her.

“Feels good, right?” he says, an awed smile on his face.

“ _Yes,_ oh, Yuri-kun, I really need--”

“Me too.” A kiss on her cheek, butterfly quick, and then his hand is gone. “I guess you should lean back.”

She lies down halfway, enough to lift her hips. She closes her eyes and focuses on his fingers and the feel of fabric sliding down her legs.

“Yu-chan, you’re _so_ pretty…”

She opens her eyes at the heightened need she hears, pushes her panties fully off. Over the sudden relief she feels having at least trimmed down there, she says, “You said that already.”

“I know. You’re really pretty.” One hand’s scratching at his neck, but his gaze at her is unwavering. “Maybe you need to get used to me saying it.” He lies back too then, mirroring her, and says in a outsize cutesy tone, “Yu-chan, please help me…!”

She laughs even though her heart rate speeds up. “Stop, I can’t take that,” she exclaims as she takes hold of his briefs and tries to be careful taking them off.

“Yu-chan, Yu-chan…” His voice cracks, hips twitching. 

Want swelling, she can only groan. He’s a little bigger than she expected from her brief exploration, and it looks like he isn’t even fully hard yet.

"Ah, Yu-chan." He blinks up at her. "Do, uh, do you have... lube?" The word is a squeak, and he winces, reddening further.

Her vision swims from the flush of embarrassed heat that hits her. "In there," she stammers back, pointing at her nightstand.

Yuri twists to reach for the drawer handle; his dick throbs (she feels an answering sensation) and, oh, he _is_ big. “You’re pretty too,” she says, her voice heavy.

He laughs bashfully as he shifts back, the small bottle of lube in hand. “Th-Thank you. D-D-Do you want to get, er…”

Before he stops talking she’s lying down across from him, a pillow propped under her head and shoulders.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay.”

“Do you use that every time?” she asks as he pops the flip cap on the lube.

“Almost. Sometimes--” His breathing stutters as he pours some over his fingers, into his hand. “Sometimes I’m so worked up I skip it, but…” He wraps his hand around the base of his dick and strokes up. “F-Feels better like this,” he says with a gasp. "What about you?"

“Watch me,” she says when his eyes close automatically. She brings her left hand to her breast, fingers sliding over her hard nipple; the other hand trails down her stomach, and farther. "And... yeah. Sometimes."

His eyes follow the path of her hand, and he inhales along with her as she presses two fingers over her clit, starts rubbing quick circles.

“Yuri,” she moans. Her wetness is already dampening her inner thighs, and the sheets; she can feel it as she spreads her legs. Heat hits her cheeks, but everything feels too good to be embarrassed anymore. “Can you see?” She pinches her nipple and whimpers as the feeling hits her clit, making it jump against her fingers.

Yuri goes back to stroking, slowly. He nods, lower lip caught between his teeth. A grunt bursts from him as he twists his hand around the head of his dick. “You feel so good.”

“You do too,” she says with a breathless laugh.

“I can’t wait until I’m able to touch you. Until I’m able to-- to get in-- _oh!_ ” His words are punctuated by little moans and gasps, until a louder moan cuts him off and he pants, squeezing himself. “Mmh, Yu-chan…!”

“Oh, god.” The sight and that thought has her pushing three fingers into herself, her other hand massaging her clit. “You-- you don’t have to hold back for me.”

With a pained gulp, Yuri says, “I want to. Wanna watch you while I can feel it.” He takes his hand away.

She whines, hips flexing. “Yuri-kun, no, let me _see_ …”

He actually _smirks._ “Look, Yu-chan.” He palms his balls, eyes going half-lidded as he sighs. “This feels good, too.” 

She’s entranced by how his dick pulses, wet gathering at the tip. His dick jerks at the same time she brushes her g-spot, and she shouts wordlessly, hips leaving the bed for a moment. Almost... “Please touch yourself,” she cries after. “Yuri-kun, I’m close!”

He slides his hand back up to his dick with a winsome moan. He reaches across his body for the lube and pours it directly over himself, eyelids fluttering. “Tell me when, Yu-chan,” he breathes, hand moving lightning-quick.

Her lungs feel tight, her belly tighter. Every breath holds a moan. She presses deeply in, searching for her g-spot-- “Y-Yuri-kun, _fuck_ ,” she whimpers as she finds it and rubs as hard as she can. With her other hand she touches her clit, jerkily, rolling it between two fingers. She can’t stop. “Now, _now_ , I’m gonna--!”

She can almost feel his hand inside her, almost feel what he might be feeling as his dick swells, twitches-- and he’s coming, white spattering on the sheets and dripping over his hand. All he can say is her name, over and over, in the most angelic voice she’s ever heard.

Her body seizes, a helpless moan choking out of her. Her eyes close and she can only feel: spasms around her fingers, liquid spilling, the orgasm radiating through every inch.

It fades in stages. The spasms weaken, her clit’s too sensitive, warmth follows the path that pleasure took. Her breathing hasn’t settled completely; that’s impossible when she opens her eyes and sees Yuri, wrecked and beautiful, his hand loose around his softened dick.

“Yuko,” he whispers, a beatific smile lighting his half-closed eyes.

Her heart skips. “Yuri-ku-- a-ah, Y-Y-Yuri…”

He giggles. “Yu-ko…”

“Yuri!” She clambers over to him, heedless of the mess, and cuddles tightly against his side.

They are still with their blushes for several moments. Then she takes his lube-covered hand, and she swears his body heat spikes, and she says too loudly for how close she is, “This was really fun. We should do it again.” Then she hides her face in his neck and tries to breathe.

His arm around her shoulders helps.

After an exquisitely pleasant nap, he helps her with the cleanup (a blush-filled affair for both of them), and they get dressed (more blushing). Soon the state of her room meets her approval, and they leave her house hand-in-hand as always.

The sun is setting, a cool salty-fresh breeze rustling the trees. Yuko takes an invigorating breath and lets it out explosively. “Gosh,” she says, “I’ve never been more ready for your mom’s katsudon in my life.”

“Why do you think I’m wearing these?” he says, indicating his sweatpants with a grin. “Prepare yourself for a feast tonight!”

Happiness as bright as the sunset fills her chest.

_~~~~~_

Yuko doesn’t exactly call herself a morning person, and she stays overnight with Mari, who’s even less amenable to mornings. But she feels the energy even before she opens her eyes, the same energy that allows Mari to beat her to the bathroom. Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Katsuki already have the breakfast table set to be devoured, shaking off Yuri and Yuko’s concern over their lack of sleep.

The ride to Hatsetsu Station is a rambunctious one, the Katsuki family car packed to bursting. Yuko’s wedged between Mari and Yuri, unable to stop smiling as the two of them laugh hysterically and try to sing along to the pop on the radio at the same time.

They pile out as one unit, and she helps Mari with the luggage so Yuri and his parents can have private time. They’re done with the luggage well before Yuri’s done being hugged, Mrs. Katsuki’s tears enough to bring a lump to Yuko’s throat.

She stands off to the side while Mari gives him a bear hug. Actually, she’d be rather happy becoming invisible for now, but his parents come up to her, and Mr. Katsuki clasps her shoulder and says, “Yuko-san, you should see him to the airport.”

“Oh, why don’t you?” she protests. “I’d be happy to, of course, but--” _It isn’t my place_. What an ungrateful thing to say, after she’s spent all this time as part of the family.

Mrs. Katsuki is smiling while she dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief. “It’s a bit of a trip for Father and me. And perhaps you’d like some time alone.”

“Thank you,” she says, only blushing slightly. “Ah, but Mari…”

Mari comes over at her name, Yuri following. “Oh, I’m tagging along too. What kind of sister would I be if I didn’t chaperone my baby brother?” she says with a chuckle, vigorously ruffling Yuko’s hair. “Don’t worry. You lovebirds can have your privacy.”

A final round of hugs, a bit more crying, and the trio head into the station.

True to her word, Mari sits across the aisle from them once they’ve all boarded, headphones on and book in hand.

The prospect of an hour stretches out before her. Suddenly she doesn’t know how to pass the time.

Yuri lays his hand over hers. “I’m sleepy, so I’m going to rest a little. Will you wake me up in twenty minutes if I’m not up?”

Then he rests his head on her shoulder and shuts his eyes.

She leans into him and stares absently ahead. Her thoughts only scare her because she might start bawling and she does _not_ want to do that. So she sits and tries to let them all through. Five years… It’s not like they’ll be cut off from each other; Facetime, texts and calls will be at hand. And, she reminds herself, for Yuri it’s a major step toward a lifelong dream. That’s all that matters.

A while later, he wakes and kisses her cheek. They spend time talking about how they’d communicate during his travels; she’s got a copy of the itinerary as do the Katsukis, but it’s a lot to keep track of. Then their phones ping simultaneously-- a text from Mari. 

Yuko glances over and she gives a thumbs up. “Group chat with mom and dad,” she says. “You can talk to us when you’re boarding and on layovers and stuff.”

“Mari,” says Yuri warningly.

“What? I wasn’t listening.” She puts her headphones back on. 

For the rest of the ride, they both turn to their phones, scrolling aimlessly through social until Yuri suggests playing that racing game she forgot about.

Their stop’s announced on the PA too soon, and it’s a blur until they reach security.

“So,” she says into his neck, in his tight embrace. “Fifteen after noon.”

He murmurs yes. “I‘ll have time for… some kind of food.”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t forget to let us know when you board.”

“Okay.”

It’s time to let go of him now. Her arms don’t want to listen. “Well…”

“Yeah.” He pulls back. He’s blinking quickly, eyes bright. “I’ll miss you, Yu-chan.”

“I’ll--” A sharp ache hits her throat, so she holds her breath a moment. “I’ll miss you too. But.” She claps her hands on his shoulder and tries to smile. “Celestino!”

“Celestino.” He copies her singsong tone as he moves further, fingers parting from hers.

“Celestino,” Mari echoes.

It keeps going until they’re all laughing, until he gets in line and has to be serious. 

Yuko grabs Mari’s arm and pulls her to the barricade, and as soon as Yuri gets through she’s waving at him, yelling “Celestino,” at the top of her lungs along with his sister.

He keeps his hand up even while he walks on, his bright blue carry-on a beacon.

Only when she can’t see him anymore does Yuko stop waving.

**five**

They call as often as time zones and their respective schedules allow, which isn’t often given that Detroit is a whole half day behind Hasetsu. Texting is easier, although she has to make Yuri swear he’ll use “do not disturb” and answer only when he’s up for the day (she promises the same, even though he’s the one with the strenuous schedule). She gives him a dedicated ringtone so she doesn’t constantly scramble for her phone, and every time she hears it warmth gathers in her chest.

It’s through a text that she finds out, a year later, that he’s dating his roommate Pichit. He calls her seconds later, when she’s composing a reply.

“We didn’t really talk about, um, the mechanics? And he’s really nice you’d like him really—”

“Whoa, Yuri, slow down.” She can’t keep the laughter out of her voice. “It’s fine! I don’t mind. I meant it when I said I wasn’t going to hold you back.”

Nervous giggles wisp through her headphones. “About this too, huh…”

“Yep! I’ve just decided!”

“That should also apply to you, then.” His response comes swiftly, in the determined tone she’s so familiar with. Then, a bit softer, “If you want.”

“Yuri…” She’s happy that they’re talking about this, happy that he trusts her like she trusts him (deep down she isn’t surprised, it’s such a _Yuri_ thing). From what Yuri’s told her, Pichit’s kind, and funny, and very talkative. And cute; Yuri’s sent her a few pics.

She doesn’t know what to say first, so none of it gets said.

Yuri has no difficulty. “He knows about you, by the way. Not that we’re dating, but he knows what a great person you are.”

Her heart flutters even as she whines at him to stop flattering her. “You should tell him,” she adds, unnecessarily, because she already knows he will. 

“Of course. It won’t work if I’m not honest.”

**six**

Yuko is twenty-one when Takeshi asks her out. She says yes, but before that moment, some other things crystalize for her.

Their trust in each other is rock solid. Still, once she’s had some time to think about it, Yuko does wonder why she got a buttery feeling in her stomach at the thought of Yuri and Pichit dating rather than a spark of jealousy. She and Yuri haven’t put a name to their relationship, but is that the only reason? Pichit’s attractive, maybe even her “type”, but is she that _shallow?_

A couple of late-night search sessions pull her down a rabbit hole. _Feeling happy my boyfriend is dating someone else. Wanting my boyfriend to date another girl. My boyfriend is dating a boy._ Those turn up nothing like what she’s looking for (what _is_ she looking for?), only overheated shoujo drama in real life. In skimming them, though, she gets closer.

_Dating more than one person. Loving more than one person at a time._

This leads her to the word polyamory. The Wikipedia stub on it is less than satisfying but it gives her a bevy of new search terms and, miraculously, an entire website—that’s unfortunately in English. Undaunted, she exercises her comprehension, wrestles multiple pages through multiple translators and comes out of it equal parts exhausted and exhilarated.

Maybe she’s polyamorous. Maybe Yuri is. She doesn’t have the answer to those questions yet, doesn’t feel like she needs them. What she does have is one word, a tantalizing beacon illuminating the feeling she experienced: _Compersion._

The feeling of joy associated with seeing a loved one love another. The opposite of jealousy.

It’s a small feeling, like a half-burned candle. A feeling that, at least for now, she wants to keep to herself.

~~~~~

Takeshi knows about her relationship with Yuri; he even confided in her about his own fleeting crush on him. The next thing he says after “Will you go out with me?” is “You should mention it to Yuri.” And then, “You don’t have to answer me right away.”

She accepts the grace period. It only takes a few hours to decide her answer.

Takeshi has always been by her side, and Yuri’s too. He’s gentled as he’s grown, though he’ll always be boisterous. He’s a good person. She _likes_ him. _And he’s here,_ a voice in her head whispers. 

They call Yuri together, because it feels like the right thing to do. He congratulates them and Takeshi blushes even more than she does.

At first she can’t help comparing, since they’ve all grown up together. Most of her observations are already-known things with the sheen of a romantic relationship, but she makes new discoveries too. He’s not as shy as Yuri, of course. On the other hand, he’s more reserved with physical affection but seems to know exactly when to display it. He’s also perceptive, sometimes finishing her sentences and noticing shifts in her mood before she’s aware of them. _That_ takes getting used to, like the pinch of newly bought shoes, but when she does she wonders how she ever lived without it.

She doesn’t fall in love with him, but she gives it her best try.

Their relationship lasts three months, the point when she finally admits to herself what she really feels for Takeshi. She only hopes their friendship won’t be damaged. She texts him, a casual smiley face and _Let’s have lunch._

She planned a small speech, prepared to let him down gently and to avoid stammering, which goes out the window once they’re face to face. Guilt tugs at her; she shoves it down. 

There's someone else, she says, and his lips mirror hers, and she says, "What?"

They blink at each other. 

Her first, shameful thought is, _Maybe he wasn’t only being nice, maybe he didn’t want to sleep together either._

The silence drags on before Takeshi breaks it with a rueful chuckle. “Didn't expect you to say that,” he says. "Besides Yuri?"

Victor's face flashes in her head suddenly, causing her to choke down a _yes_. "No. Just him. Takeshi," she says, pleading, “I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head, putting a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to lead you on. I did really like you—I mean, I do! Like you. I wanted to try, not that I planned to use you or anything, I just mean--”

He’s never been so flustered. A laugh slips out, which she apologizes for. “Thank you for telling me. I’m not mad, or upset,” she says first, inwardly cringing at how he might have taken her silence. “It’s just that… I was going to break up with _you._ And I really like you too, but that… that’s all.” She sighs shortly, bites her lip. “I felt like I was leading _you_ on.”

“Aren’t we two peas in a pod.” His lopsided smile lifts her heart. “If it’s any consolation, you gave me the courage to tell the truth.” 

Flinging her arms around him, she says, “I don’t need consoling. You’re important to me. You’re my best friend!” She pulls back to kiss his cheek. “I want you to be happy. I’m sure the person you like is wonderful.”

“She is. I am. I _was_ with you _._ And… I know,” he says, his smile gentling. “You want that for everyone.”

**seven**

When Yuko is twenty-two, Takeshi gets married. The “someone else,” it turns out, is Satoko Kimura, the skating otaku mother of the skating otaku triplets. As Satoko enthusiastically reminds her, Yuko had known her back in elementary school. A vague memory surfaces; Satoko was a grade or two ahead, an effortlessly cool senpai halfway between friend and crush. She keeps that last part to herself, but Satoko gets a good laugh out of her characterization.

“No way. I was such a klutz! Don’t you remember? I wore two of these back then,” she says, sticking her leg out of the booth to show her calf-length brace; it’s got stickers today, so one of the girls must be feeling creative.

“Not really,” Yuko says, a bit sheepish. ”But you got into a lot of fights, I think.” She raises a questioning eyebrow, dipping a shrimp into the hot pot.

“Sounds about right.” Satoko takes a drink of beer and says, “I didn’t have much patience for the insults kids shot at me. Weak this, cripple that, that sort of thing. Upper arm strength, though…” She flexes her free arm and grins. “I could throw a mean right hook. Still can.”

“Or clobber them with your crutches or something,” Takeshi chimes.

Yuko gives him a horrified glance, but Satoko collapses against him laughing uproariously. “For all I know I probably did!” 

Chuckling, Yuko shakes her head and goes back to eating. When she looks up again, Takeshi’s staring at her intently and Satoko looks like she’s trying not to laugh again. “What?” she asks him.

“Nothing,” he says, in a not-nothing tone. “I’m just beginning to understand some things about you.”

It takes a second for her own brawl-filled youth to come back to her. “Cut it out,” she exclaims, reaching over the table to smack his shoulder.

Satoko giggles. “Uh-oh, was I a good influence on you?”

She sticks her tongue out and says no at the same time Takeshi says yes.

~~~~~

Takeshi is insistent that Yuri stay in Detroit so he won’t disrupt any routines. Satoko’s agreement surprises Yuko, though maybe it shouldn’t; what with her skating fan bona fides, her daughters’ Yuri obsession, and having Takeshi for a husband, she too has become an ardent supporter of Yuri’s endeavors.

Yuri, however, is equally insistent that he fly back for the wedding. In the end, Celestino himself pays for Yuri’s round trip, and so the matter’s settled.

The wedding is understated, only the bride and groom’s close family and friends attending, even after the shrine ceremony. It takes place at Hatsetsu Bay in the spring, with an arbor adorned by ivy that sways in the sea breeze.

She holds Yuri’s hand during the ceremony and resolutely doesn’t think about what the future might hold.

Blessedly, Yuri gets an entire weekend back. It seems like half that time is spent on the rink with Yuko and the others, showcasing what he’s learned so far or just goofing off. It devolves— or evolves, depending on who you ask— into the four of them, Mari, and the triplets all staging an impromptu dance/skate-off to “Zenzenzense”. It’s recorded for posterity, and Axel uploads it after getting permission. Their shenanigans get a modest amount of views, which is just a bonus. Yuko hasn’t laughed so much in months.

(Something she realizes later is that it’s also been a long time since she’s been so tactile with other people besides Yuri. It’s a little embarrassing, and she vows to remedy that from then on.)

Seeing everything he’s accomplished so far makes his leaving this time much easier to bear, enough that she sees him off at the station with his family instead of riding in with him. 

“Yu-chan, selfie?” He gives her entirely unnecessary but very appreciated puppy dog eyes.

She drapes an arm over his head while he hugs her to his side. His tongue pokes out while he fusses with his phone. For the nth time she suppresses the urge to yell about how _freaking adorable_ her boyfriend is. She does say, “I’m so proud of you.”

He nudges his head against hers. “I’m proud, too,” he says quietly.

Just before the photo snaps, he surprises her with a kiss.

“Pichit wanted to see how cute we are,” he says after, with a grin. “It’s okay to show him this, right?”

It is _extremely_ okay. Still, she’s pretty sure it takes the rest of the day for her blush to disappear.

**eight**

Yuko is twenty-five when Yuri returns to Hasetsu.

The DVR’s set religiously to catch his every competition. Watch parties with the Katsukis and Nishigoris, plus Minako-sensei, become a regular occurrence; they cheer every move and shout encouragement when he falls. And then, too fast, mistakes pile up. Her heart breaks right along with his when he gets knocked out of the Grand Prix.

She stays up with him on the phone in those first awful weeks after Vicchan dies, murmuring uselessly as he sobs, keeping the line open until they both fall asleep. After that, when his skills start to worsen, his communication drops away too. Resisting the pull of texting or calling is nearly physically painful, but she’s steadfast in her decision to give him space to move first. Her phone goes silent for weeks until one night, a single text during dinner her time, when he’s usually asleep.

_I’m coming home._

Just like that, it’s almost like he’s never left her side. Almost. Well, no, it’s not at all like that. She can’t even kid herself. She’s missed him desperately; as a boyfriend, as a friend, it hardly matters how.

Two days later, Yuko’s tidying up Ice Castle for the night. She hears the doors slide open, and the standard “we’re closed” spiel comes out of her mouth, and then—

“Hi, Yu-chan.”

She shoves the boots she’s holding back onto the shelf, vaults over the counter and all but tackles him to the floor, shouting his name.

“I’m back,” he manages through laughter, unsteady in her arms.

She holds back a squeal, squeezing him briefly but tight enough to bruise. “Welcome home,” she exclaims when she releases him, stepping back to take him in. His eyes are a little duller, sporting dark circles, and his glasses are smudged. But he felt soft and warm when she hugged him, just like before.

Silence stretches between them as they look at each other. He pulls off his hood, scratches his neck. (He broke up with Pi—she drop-kicks that shameful thought into next year.) 

“You must be here to skate,” she says, mentally slapping her forehead. “Go on.”

“Oh. That’s okay?” A light flickers in his eyes. “But you’re c-closed.”

"Yeah, but you want to skate alone, right?” She winks; he blushes. “I’ll protect you.”

Ten minutes later, she’s flipping through a magazine when her phone buzzes on the counter. A video call from Yuri.

“Can you come in? I want to show you something.”

Rinkside, he removes his glasses and hands them to her. “I’ve been practicing this since the competitions ended, because I wanted you to see it.” Then he skates to center rink and drops his head. 

Her heart flies into her mouth. _It can’t possibly be…_ Victor’s free skate. The music booms in her head and she whips out her phone without thinking, looking just long enough to make sure he’s in frame before raising her eyes.

She watches him barely breathing, heart thumping. Tears come to her eyes when he hits the first quad, and by the time he nails the salchow she’s crying openly, fighting to stay quiet, to not break Yuri’s concentration. It’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. He spins right up to her during the step sequence and it’s like she’s fourteen again, watching Victor—Yuri smiles softly but with megawatts behind it, reaching toward her with longing but moving away before she can reach back. 

More spins, a triple lutz, everything pitch perfect. By the time the routine draws to a close, she’s mostly pulled herself together, able to stop recording when he returns to center ice. And then the rink falls silent, save for Yuri’s breathing. She sets her phone down, takes a choked breath, and then she’s letting everything out.

“That was amazing,” she shouts. “A perfect copy of Victor! How did you even?! I-I-I thought you were depressed but you’ve done this amazing thing, Yuri, _oh my god!_ ”

“I was. But… eventually I realized I’d…” He swallows, glancing to one side. “…fallen out of love with skating. I wanted that back. So I started practicing.” Eyes to the ice, he glides to her, hands landing by hers on the wall’s edge. “I thought I could bring back the feeling I had when you and I copied Victor.”

He looks up, lips parted slightly. _Remember?_ his eyes ask. As if she could ever forget.

“Well. I guess…” Her voice shakes, so she puts her hand over his to ground herself. “Looks like it worked.”

A half-smile tugs at his mouth. “Yeah.”

“You’ll be on the same ice as Victor one day.” She leans out and puts her arms around him, heedless of his sweat-drenched shirt. “I have no doubts.”

After a moment, he tenses, and she lets go of him. He looks determined, chin up, jaw set.

“Yuko, I… I’ve always—” 

_loved me loved Victor can’t let him finish_

“I know,” she says, and she’s almost convinced herself she does. Takeshi’s words from four years ago come back to her: _Don’t forget to let_ yourself _be happy, too._

If Yuri is happy then she’s happy. It’s that simple. 

His eyes are bright again, falling shut as he starts leaning in to kiss her.

“Yuri! You’re back!”

A flurry of sound and motion ensues as Takeshi, Satoko and the triplets meet them, and she snaps back to reality.

~~~~~

Back at Yu-topia, the four of them, along with Mari, partake in far too much sake (Minako-sensei convinced Yuri’s parents to bring out the _really_ good stuff), and the rest of the night is blurry. The only thing Yuko remembers the next morning is having taken out her phone to yell with Takeshi over Yuri’s performance while he hid under the table in embarrassment (or maybe passed out.) 

By now, it’s too late. The damage, in the form of thousands of still-multiplying hits, has been done. 

She told him she took the video, told him she’d delete it if he wanted, but he blushed and fidgeted and said it was fine so she didn’t, and now...

“Who did this?” she whispers in horror at Takeshi’s message with the video, as if Siri will give her the answer. This is what she gets for never logging out of her Youtube account…

Fingers trembling, she replies. _WHO UPLOADED IT??????????_

Takeshi: _idk IDFK I thought u did!!! U don’t remember??_

_NEITHER DO YOU!?_

Yuri: _Good night~_

_YURI IT’S MORNING_

With a groan, she flings her phone down and burrows under the bedsheets. “My head…”

After a shower, aspirin, and a small breakfast, her hangover is gone, only for deep shame to take its place. _I should never have recorded him. I shouldn’t have shown Takeshi. I shouldn’t have had so much sake._

As it turns out, Mari borrowed Yuko’s phone and posted the video; she tells Yuko everything in a frantic phone call.

But that doesn’t matter anymore. What’s done is done. Now they’ve got to figure out if there’s any way to contain this firestorm.

(Spoiler alert: there isn’t.)

**nine**

Every once in a while, Yuko has moments that make her wonder what parallel-universe Yuko might be doing.

“Hi! I’m Victor Nikiforov. I’ll be Yuri’s coach from now on.”

This is definitely one of them.

Takeshi’s squeezing her shoulder painfully hard. She can’t even think. Unfortunately, she can still talk.

“You’re going to be Yuri’s coach?!” she yells along with Takeshi.

“I am! Isn’t that right, Yuri?”

“Y-Yes,” said boy wheezes in the corner.

“Please don’t kill him,” Yuko blurts.

Victor laughs, and it’s a wonder she’s staying upright. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

He looks around appraisingly. She can feel Takeshi actually shaking next to her, which reminds her to stop gnawing at her lower lip.

“This place will do wonderfully,” Victor proclaims, clapping his hands together. “May we use it as our home rink?”

Takeshi’s nodding in her peripheral vision, but she’s busy absorbing and Victor’s staring right at her, and oh wait he asked them both. “U-Um, of course! But don't you want to see--”

“We’ll have to talk to the higher-ups,” Takeshi said, “but it can be done!”

Then he claps Yuko on the shoulder too hard and bustles by to the skate shelves.

 _Don’t leave me here,_ her mind screeches, while her voice shouts, “Yes! Definitely!” at Victor. _Oh my god this is actually happening._ She half-bows, then changes her mind and thrusts out her hand. "It's s-so wonderful to meet y—”

"I remember now. You're Yuri's girlfriend! A pleasure to meet such an enchanting person." His Japanese is a bit odd (probably the accent) but no matter, because he raises her hand to his lips and she's never going to wash it again.

Unbelievably, she doesn't faint. She actually speaks-- thank you in Russian-- and then, in Japanese, "Oh, we aren’t—I’m not his—” She sucks in a breath, glancing over at a more composed yet bashful Yuri. Why doesn’t she want to say it? “...Yes.” She swallows, watching him. “I’m his girlfriend.” 

Immediately, Yuri smiles down at the floor.

Her chest warms at the sight. Is that really the first time she’s said it out loud? 

Clearing her throat, she says, “He... told you about me?"

“Yes!” Victor beams, trotting over to Yuri and pulling him along. “I should be thanking you, really. As Yuri’s idol, you introduced him to skating and look how far he’s come!”

Her jaw drops. “I, he, huh?!”

She heard Yuri’s squawk of distress at the word idol, and in front of her now, he can’t meet her eyes. “V-V-Victor! I never said—I mean, I did, but I…” With a nervous chuckle, he trails off, biting his lower lip.

“Is it true?” she whispers, tears beginning to form. “Yuri?” 

He nods, pushes his glasses back up his nose. “When I… That night, on this rink…” Now he takes her hand (and she puts her free one over his, fingers curling). “You said ‘I know’, but—” He smiles again, eyes crinkling. “You didn’t, Yuko. B-B-Before…” His face reddens, and his eyes cut to Victor.

Automatically, she turns slightly to look too. He’s given them space, still watching, and she should _really_ be more unnerved than she is.

“You were my idol first.” Then he puts his hand on her cheek, and smiles even wider, and says, “Thank you so much.”

That’s it. She’s going to kiss him, right in front of Vic—

“Oh my _god_ ,” Takeshi says, slinging his arms around them both; skates bump into Yuko’s stomach. “As touching as this is, don’t you think we should let Victor try out our ice now?”

“Takeshi,” she growls, pushing half-heartedly at his chest.

“That would be wonderful,” Victor trills, plucking a pair of skates from Takeshi’s hands as he moves past them. “Perfect size! Nicely done.”

“I picked up a few things being friends with those two.” He detaches from Yuko and Yuri with a chortle, then hurries after Victor, offering to lead the way.

She looks at Yuri. He looks back.

“Well,” she says, with deliberate slowness, “we should go watch Victor Nikiforov’s Ice Castle debut.”

His hand in hers is the only thing keeping her feet on the ground.

**ten**

It’s the weekend before Hot Springs on Ice. Yuko’s in her room trying to read, not really seeing the words. She wanted to be at Ice Castle helping out, but the Nishigori triplet have taken charge _and_ involved both their father and Minako-sensei (Satako has also been helping, in between evening classes and homework). “Go relax,” Takeshi told her, except she’s too restless to do that.

Grumbling, she pulls out her phone to find a game to play and almost drops it when Yuri’s ringtone goes off.

“Hi.”

“Can I come over?” He sounds out of breath.

“Sure. Are you all right, Yuri?” Tapping the speaker button, she gets up and starts tidying.

“Yes. I’m, ah, jogging.”

Something still seems off. “Is everything okay with Victor there?” she asked, tossing scrap paper into the wastebasket.

“Kind of?” Traffic cuts him off for a moment. “It’s just a bit overwhelming, knowing he’s just a few rooms away.”

Yuko truly admires his fortitude.

Shortly after Yuri ends the call, her doorbell rings. She takes a glance into the mirror before opening the door.

He’s flushed but smiling, and he drinks greedily from the fresh bottle of water she hands him as soon as his shoes are off.

“Want some tea?”

He declines. “I’d like to just… borrow your bed, if that’s okay.” Frowning, he sniffs his shirt. “I don’t think I’m too sweaty.”

She doesn’t mind. Not that she’ll let him know that.

As promised, he face-plants on her bed as soon as they get back to her room. She settles cross-legged on the floor and watches his back as he breathes.

It’s funny how just the sight of him can calm her down, even now.

“You know,” he begins, making her sit up to hear him, “I’ve forgotten how good running can feel.”

She giggles and says, “Maybe you can put that into you Eros routine.” Probably a dumb joke, but she can’t help it taking up so much brainspace.

He’s quiet for so long she wonders if she made a big mistake. Then he rolls to one side and sits up, fixing her with a stare that makes her spine tingle uncertainly.

“I had another reason for coming over.”

She waits.

“I was wondering if you wanted to…” His reddening face gives the rest away. “If-- if we could do it.”

“Do it,” she repeats, blinking.

“Have sex,” he half-shouts, hands clenching the edge of the bed.

“I know what you mean!” she says at the same volume, flailing backward. Her pulse is hammering in her throat.

“I still don’t understand Victor’s Eros but Minako-sensei showed me some things and I thought maybe if--”

She ignores the pit forming in her stomach and shuffles back to him, placing her hands on his knees. “You thought if we did it, it might help you figure your Eros out.”

He nods enough to make his glasses slip. “But that’s not the only reason! I wouldn’t do that to you!”

“All I want to know,” she says, hating how her voice wobbles, “is you’re asking because you want to. Not because you feel like you have to.”

“Yuko…” His hand lands on her head with impossible gentleness. “Yuko, I’ve wanted to do this for five years,” he says with a soft laugh. “Haven’t you?”

Her answer is to lean up and kiss him.

When they separate, he whispers, “Why don’t you take the lead?”

“I don’t know what that means,” she responds, with a helpless laugh.

“Neither do I. So I guess… whatever you feel is right.”

“I don’t know if I can do this.” She says it even as she unhooks her bra, as she takes off her shirt.

“We can stop,” he says as he stands to shuck off his pants. “Whenever you want.”

“That goes for you too.”

“I know.”

They’re down to their underwear in no time. Yuko looks at him looking at her and lets memories of the last time they were like this flow through her body. Heat fills her, and she palms her crotch through her panties lightly, sharpening her gaze. Yuri’s hand flexes, fingers trembling like he’s dying to touch himself. His eyes behind his glasses have already grown dark.

“I really want you inside me, Yuri.”

He moans, licking his lips. “I want that so _badly_ …”

“Then let me help you.” She steps forward, reaching for him, but he holds up a hand.

“Wait,” he mumbles, not looking at her. “I need to tell you something.” He lets out a slow, long sigh. Then he says, “Minako-sensei… I wanted her to teach me how to move like a woman. I don’t feel right in the playboy role.” He slides his boxes off while he talks, a distracting sight. “But moving like that? Being the one to seduce the playboy… That fits me. It’s who I am in Eros.”

A slow grin tugs on her mouth. “Are you going to seduce me, then?”

“Maybe.” He leans into a pose that’s subtle yet heartstopping, looking at her askance through his lashes. “Or you could… ravish me.”

His voice drops low on the last few words, trembling slightly. It’s all the encouragement Yuko needs.

She takes hold of his face and kisses him, refusing to bend so he has to lean up. “Undress me,” she says in between kisses, and she moans into his mouth as her panties are pushed down. She puts her hand on his shoulders, shoving him down, then kicks her panties aside and climbs onto the bed.

“Yuri, you’re gorgeous,” she says, her breath coming short. She puts her hand on his half-hard dick as she puts her legs outside his, rising on her knees. “Look how wet you've made me.” She brushes him up against her labia, over her clit, shuddering gasps tearing from her throat as he grows fully erect, pulsing against her.

“Wait, wait, c-condom?” He groans, eyes shut tight. “It’s too good…!”

Swallowing a groan, she crawls farther over him to reach her nightstand and grab the box in the drawer. Grabbing what she needs, she tosses the box back onto the shelf.

Yuri’s hands on her hips hold her still.

She looks down and instantly blushes. Her crotch is just about in Yuri’s face. If she moves just a little more, she’ll be...

“Yuko.” He moans, shakily. “L-Let me…” He leans up, she feels his breath on her, and--

“Wai--” A gasping cry leaves her. His lips and tongue press against her clit, licking so gently she can’t stop herself from pressing back. “Yuri,” she whimpers, weak and desperate. She wants to move but she can’t, and in no time her muscles go taut, her clit throbs, everything inside clenches. “Coming,” she chokes out, through tiny moans.

He moans too, and she feels it this time.

Breathing hard, she eases back down onto his chest. His face swims in her vision; she blinks to clear it.

“That was amazing.” Yuri’s smiling before she can ask if he’s okay. “It really felt that good?”

“Y-Yeah.” She takes a few breaths, a hand over her pounding heart. “I didn’t expect that at all.”

“We should try that again sometime.”

When he licks his lips again, it makes her blush come back even worse.

“Where were we?” she stammers.

Yuri holds up the foil square. “Got it.”

She gets back in position and takes it from him. She’s practiced, but nerves mean opening the packet takes longer and putting it on takes even longer. The noises and squirming Yuri does from her fumbling don’t help, either.

She pauses once he’s fully sheathed, wanting to take in the full sight of him. She runs her hand up and down his chest as she asks, “Are you sure this is ok?” She means that she isn’t lying down, but she can’t figure out how to say it.

“You’re going to ravish me, remember.” He takes her hand, his thumb running over her palm enough to make her shake. He smiles and adds, “This doesn’t have to be the only time.”

“R-Right.”

“Take me, Yu-chan,” he says, squeezing her hand.

His voice makes her forget to breathe for a moment. She holds her breath, too, as she grips his dick with one hand and parts her labia with the other. When she’s easing herself on to him, it comes out in pants.

“Yes, yes, yes, oh, _Yuko…_ ”

She feels like crying.

For a few moments she waits and stares at him, bracing her hands on his chest. He’s all the way in, bigger than the toys she’s used by a decent amount, but so much warmer.

Slowly, she starts to move.

Yuri’s already moving to meet her, eyes shiny and voice broken. “That’s-- I knew that was how you’d feel, I knew--”

“Yuri, it’s so much…”

“You okay?”

She laughs, feels a few tears slipping down her cheeks. “I’m great.”

Her clit aches, she realizes. She touches it with tentative fingers, bringing her other hand to the bedspread for support, and suddenly wants to move faster.

Yuri moans louder than she’s ever heard, better than she’s ever imagined.

She can feel familiar heat building, and a less familiar tingling in her nerves. Everything feels good, but…

“Ah, _ah,_ Yuko, are you close?” He’s desperate, gasping with every word.

“I-- don’t know.”

“S-Stop for a second, please, I’m about to--” 

A long moan cuts him off, and she thinks she can feel him twitching inside her. She freezes for a few seconds, settling onto him fully when he’s caught his breath to rest her aching thighs.

“Do you feel good?” he asked hoarsely, still breathing hard.

“Of course I do.” Maybe not enough to come again, though.

“Let me touch you. Show me how.”

Blushing, she does, taking his hand and guiding his fingers on her clit. Her hand falls away as he takes over; she watches him touch her, whimpering when her clit grows more swollen against his fingers.

“S-Should I--”

“I’m okay, Yuko. Please stay still.” His eyes are fixed on his hand, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I want you to feel good. Wanna make you come again.”

Her muscles shudder around him, making both of them gasp.

“I want to, _oh…_ ” He inhales shakily. “I want to stay inside you for longer.”

She lets him touch her for a few more minutes. Lets her head fall back as the pleasure builds, whines his name as warmth engulfs her clit.

“While you still--” She swallows, exhaling a moan. “Don’t stop. I’m gonna try moving.”

The pleasure in her clit expands as she slides up and down once, slowly, testing. She moves again, faster now, and yes, she can feel it surrounding her, climbing to her lower back. It stays even when Yuri’s hand leaves her to grip the sheets, spiking as he starts to meet her with jerking thrusts.

“I can feel you,” he cries out, tears forming. “I can feel you almost there.”

He gets ahold of her arms, fingers digging in, and she leans toward him as far as she can, not far enough. His words get her closer to the edge.

“Yuri, harder,” she begs, grinding on every downthrust. “Yuri, _Yuri!_ ”

Her orgasm erases everything. Everything except Yuri’s helplessly ecstatic shouts and the feeling of him pulsing inside her.

When she comes back to her body, she moves just enough to let him slip out of her before flopping down next to him.

“Uh, I need, need to get--” Yuri squirms against her. “Sorry.”

“Oh, shit. I mean!” A nervous giggle escapes at her unexpected swear. She covers her mouth while she watches Yuri take off and tie off the condom. “Gimme,” she says, blushing yet again, and drags herself off the bed to get to the wastebasket.

He’s stolen the wall side of the bed by the time she’s back, but she’s too tired to quibble. She drapes half her body over him and lays her head on his chest. “I love you.”

Part of her wants to crawl _under_ the bed, all the times they’ve texted the words doing nothing to lessen the terror of saying them aloud. 

Yuri just smiles, stroking her hair. “I love you too, Yuko.”

“Hey,” she says a few minutes later when the view of his face finally registers, “We forgot your glasses.” She’s too wiped to lift even a finger, never mind her arm.

“Oh.” He giggles and takes them off, barely getting them onto her nightstand.

She falls asleep to the sound of his heart.

Yuri’s promise of another time holds true in the morning, and that night, and the night after that.

**eleven**

“Yurio!” She bursts through the doorway, panting. “It’s almost time. You need to get ready.”

“Jeez, calm down. I already am.” Rolling his eyes, he unzips his jacket.

She _squeals,_ completely undignified, at the instantly recognizable costume. “Victor’s juniors competition outfit, oh my god _oh my god!_ ” The fantasies of her younger self, Yuri’s face while he watched that video, the two of them obsessively copying every step they could—it all roars through her mind in an instant. Her second nosebleed of the day hits (the first was when Yuri revealed _his_ costume, another Nikiforov classic) and it’s still a surprise; she gropes unsuccessfully around for tissues with one hand while flailing with the other. “I never, ever dreamed I would see it in person, ever…!”

“Your nose,” Yurio starts, looking disgusted.

“You’ll do great you look amazing you should go good luck,” she says in a breath, shoving him out of the room (being sure to touch his jacket and not the costume). Then she wilts face-first against the nearest wall and tries to stem the flow.

“So…”

Yelping, she jumps and spins toward Victor’s voice, tissues to her face and plugging up her nose. Oh god he saw her, he’s _seeing_ her. “You startled me! I didn’t see you.”

He grins, an easy sly one. “Is it the costume, or him wearing it?”

“No! Yes! I mean—” she squeaks, stuffing tissues into the trash can and grabbing for more. “He’s _fifteen_ , it’s just the _costume_ —” _the one you were wearing when I fell for you—_

“It’s okay, Ishikawa-san.” He chuckles, holding up a placating hand. “I’m only teasing. Need some help?”

“Um, you can call me Yu--”

He whips out a handkerchief from somewhere and starts cleaning her up mid-sentence, leaving her stuttering uselessly. “You’ve been having difficulties today,” he says, smiling breezily.

“Please forgive me,” she says plaintively. “I’ve never been so embarrassed. You must think I’m some kind of creepy Nikiforov otaku…” _Which I absolutely am._

“I’m quite flattered, actually. Besides, someone so important to Yuri gets a free pass from me.” Still smiling, he taps her nose with a wink. “All better!”

Her knees feel weak. “Thank you,” she ekes out.

“Come come, let’s go see Yurio’s Hasetsu debut!” He takes her hand and she stumbles to keep up, strange echoes of Yuri sounding in her head. “I’m sure he and Yuri will both do well.”

“That reminds me, how is it going with Yuri?” Every time she tries to imagine him performing Eros, her brain shuts down. Her soft and sweet Yuri, seductive and dangerous? Even with what he told her (even with what they’ve done), it seems so incongruous, but her heart nearly stopped when she saw his costume…

That train of thought crashes when Victor says, “He told me he found his Eros.”

“Really?” Out by the rink now, she lowers her voice. She’s at a loss. “Well… That—that’s wonderful! I wonder how?” The question is genuine. Even so, the memory of Victor and Yuri standing so close on center ice suddenly fills her mind. Heat flows to her face as she fights off other images that are decidedly less chaste.

“How, indeed,” Victor murmurs.

She realizes he’s still holding her hand at the moment he drops it, and feels herself blushing even more from his gaze as it shifts into something she can’t place. Then the lights go down and, heart in her throat, she turns her eyes to the rink.

(It’s only later that she recalls that first night she spent with Yuri, and she wonders, and never finds the courage to ask.)

~~~~~

At yet another celebratory Yu-topia dinner, it’s clear that Victor is giving Minako-sensei a run for her money on who likes sake more.

“Yuri did so well, didn’t he?” 

Yuko has gotten sandwiched between the coach and his trainee. Victor is exultant. Yuri’s turned shy. Yuko hasn’t stopped smiling for about an hour.

“Wasn’t he sexy, Yuko-san?! Ah, and look how bashful he is now,” Victor continues, ebulliently tugging on Yuri’s cheek and practically laying in Yuko’s lap to reach him.

Okay, he’s _definitely_ in her lap _,_ but she’s trying very hard to not die right now so screw semantics.

Yuri mumbles and tries to push Victor’s hand away.

As amusing and surreal as this is, Yuko takes pity on him and takes Victor’s wrist.

“You’d better watch out, or I might steal him!”

Thoroughly distracted by how he immediately starts playing with her fingers and how he’s laughing inches away from her face, she can’t come up with a response. So: “Excuse me, I need the bathroom,” she says in a rush, miraculously extricating herself and making a run for it.

She power-walks up and down the nearest hallway and lets a scream or two out into her hands. After that she feels better, making it through the evening by sitting on Yuri’s other side.

And later, alone, she indulges in thoughts of Victor’s hands and mouth and body, pondering how often Yuri thinks the same thoughts.

~~~~~

When Victor's handkerchief touches her face, Yuko’s subconscious decides: any moments she’s lucky enough to have alone with Victor are something she’ll never tell anyone about. She knows that’s wrong when she and Yuri have been so open. Especially when it’s Victor, especially when she sees how he looks at Yuri… and how Yuri looks back. And it’s not only those looks. She sees how they move with each other, how they talk, on TV and within her eyesight. 

What she sees when she watches them is what she’s felt over all this time being with Yuri. That only makes her selfish choice to steal time with Victor more unconscionable. 

(But a tiny voice, almost too small to hear, says that maybe Yuri wouldn’t mind. Maybe, if he saw, he might have the same feelings she gets watching them.)

**twelve**

The night after Yuri’s press conference, Yuko is finding it hard to sleep.

 _"...I always felt like I was fighting alone. But since Victor showed up to be my coach, I've realized something. Love exists all around me. All kinds of love. And so, my theme of 'love' isn't something clear-cut. It’s more complicated than that. It encompasses love for my family, my hometown, love for the support Victor has shown me.”_ He smiled at the camera then, before his eyes moved to Victor and that same smile softened. _“...And my feelings toward the people I want to hold on to. I don’t have a name for that emotion, but I’ve decided to call it ‘love.’”_

Yuko’s used to the Yuri who appears in front of the camera, still himself but with something undefinable, something not quite real. Obviously there are things he can’t say outright. The subtext is crystal-clear to her, because she wants to hold on to Yuri with all her might. But sometimes, thinking of Victor, a phantom itch slithers through her arms.

 _“Now that I know what ‘love’ is, what love_ means _to me, I'm stronger for it. And I'll prove it to myself with a Grand Prix Final gold medal!”_

As if things don’t feel complicated enough, this is the first time she’s felt compersion when the object of that compersion is within reach. When she felt the same with him and Pichit, that was when her relationship with Yuri was more… open. Now? When they’ve (finally) called each other datefriends? After they’ve had _sex_? It should be different. She should be jealous, like every woman gets when their boyfriend looks at another girl. Most girls would be even more upset if their boyfriend looked at another guy. There must be something wrong with her. This just isn’t normal.

Maybe she’s not normal.

Fighting with her own feelings gets her nowhere fast. Out of options, she turns to a trusted friend: Satoko. Truthfully, Takeshi might be a better person to discuss this particular subject with, but he’s also a _guy._ Talking with Satoko is far less mortifying.

Her mistake is forgetting Takeshi would get roped in anyway.

She doesn’t tell them everything, even though she trusts them. Only about her old crush on Victor, and her out-of-place elation at watching his interactions with Yuri.

“Victor’s always been something you and Yuri have shared.”

Takeshi’s right, like he is so often. But... “That was different! That was when he was— I never thought—!” She pinches the bridge of her nose, inhales, and tries again. “Now he’s actually here, a real live person, and— you see how they are together,” she says vehemently, gesturing away. “I think they’re the only ones who don’t realize how they feel. I can’t get in the way of that.” 

He doesn’t correct her assumption, just looks wryly at her. “Who says you’d be getting in the way?”

At the time she sputters, laughs it off. But when she’s alone... well, she still hardly considers the implications. What she has with Yuri, what she has with Victor, what the three of them have— she doesn’t have a name for it. All she knows is that it’s incredibly precious, something in her wildest dreams she never thought she could have. It’s fragile too, ready to break if she examines it too closely.

Satoko is another annoyingly perceptive voice. “You should just talk to him, Yuko. Both of them.”

But every time she even begins to think of the questions she’d need to ask, her throat closes up and her heart races. No, it’s selfish to ask for anything more. Not when she’s living a dream every day, and when her existing selfishness remains unpunished.

~~~~~

Pichit’s Instagram post-- him smiling behind his hand while a very drunk, possibly naked (?!) Victor clings to a moderately flustered Yuri, lips against his cheek— causes a few things to click into place. When she videochats with Yuri a few days later, she broaches a subject she’s been afraid to broach for more than one reason.

She doesn’t blurt it right out, of course; she waits for a natural opening, which presents itself in a lull after the conversation has turned to Victor (that’s been happening more and more often). “You know, Yuri…” _Say something else. There’s still time--_ “If you’re gay, I’m really fine with it.”

His response is instant. “No, I’m not!” Flailing a little, he continues, “You’re you, and Victor’s Victor, and-- somehow that’s all that matters. Of course I know he’s a man and you’re a woman but I--” He laughs a little too loudly, a hand going to his neck. “I really like Victor. But I still like you, and I want to stay with you.”

She can’t help but feel relief. “I want to stay with you, too.”

Whether she can is another question entirely.

~~~~~

Yuri’s Cup of China short program is flawless. Naively, Yuko doesn’t see how he can top it in the free. And it isn’t flawless, but he isn’t superhuman.

Less than half of the program left, when--

“He did a flip, not a loop,” Satoko shouts at the TV.

“Like Victor,” exclaims Yuko along with Takeshi.

“But he fell--”

Loop turns up the volume, shushing frantically.

“... _there appeared to have been enough rotations…”_

The room erupts in cheers. Beer splashes Yuko from somewhere and she couldn’t care less. Even the announcers are singing Yuri’s praises. Looking at his exhausted, exhilarated face, she feels so full of love she could burst.

Everyone’s still hollering, talking over each other as the camera cuts to… where Victor should be but isn’t. Then Yuri’s in view, the camera following as he skates toward the kiss and cry. It looks like he’s saying something-- and there Victor is, skidding to a stop, smiling brightly enough to set the lens (and Yuko’s heart) on fire. He _leaps_ into Yuri’s arms--

She makes a strange sound that’s too loud in the sudden silence. The announcers are still chattering, but everyone around Yuko is quiet.

“Did Victor…?” Takeshi trails off.

There are commercials on screen now, doing nothing to erase the image of Victor and Yuri sprawled out on the rink from Yuko’s eyes. Victor had raised his head. She imagines them smiling at each other.

“He kissed him,” she whispers, lips barely moving.

An unstoppable, unreasonable joy begins to well up. Except she doesn’t know, not for real; there’s no way she can. Even so, she’s so deeply certain ( _join all those online skating otaku then,_ sounds a snide voice in her head) that it might as well be called knowing.

Ever since she saw that pic on Pichit’s Insta, Yuko has started to place her feelings about Victor into a box in her mind, a box with a tightly shut lid. Were she honest with herself, she’d admit that box was constructed way back when he first walked into Ice Castle. Admitting that, however, would unseal the lid. That can never happen.

Into that box now goes the kiss that maybe wasn’t but surely was, and all the times she’s told Yuri she loves him.

She smiles at the shot of Yuri and Victor in the kiss and cry, sitting close together.

~~~~~

“Didn’t do it!”

She bolts upright in bed, flailing at an unseen monster. “Wha…?” Her phone is buzzing but she doesn’t know where. Almost falling off the bed when she tries to get out of it, she stumbles to the lamp on her desk and squints around. 

Her phone’s on the rug. She dives for it, flicking on the screen. The number looks familiar somehow.

_5 in the morning?_

She picks up. “Hello?”

“Hello,” a familiar voice drawls.

She gasps, which sets off a coughing fit when saliva goes the wrong way. “V-V-Victor?!”

He makes a ‘ta-da’ sort of noise and says, “Yes.”

“Are you drunk?” she splutters, climbing onto her bed from the floor. “What time is it?” It must be night in Moscow by now.

“Ohh, ‘m sorry, Ijisawa-san.” He laughs, hiccups, and says, “I-Ishikawa-- ah, Yuko-san. I can call you that, right?”

She doesn’t respond right away, still half-asleep, half in shock, and dealing with the fact that Victor goddamn Nikiforov has apparently drunk-dialed her. _Just_ her.

“Well, you _have_ been calling me that, so…”

“Yuko-chan, then! Yuko-chan, Yuko-chan…” He hums, giggling.

Her whole body goes hot. She doesn’t bother fighting it. “You have my number.”

“From Yuri’s phone!”

“You’re on Yuri’s phone?”

“No, no, mine.” He laughs again.

“Why would you…” She huffs. pressing a hand to her forehead. “Are you okay? Is _he_ okay?”

“Mm, Yuri’s fine, and I’m fine, we’re both just fine. Well, he’s sleeping but not drunk and I’m awake and not _not_ drunk--”

“Why did you call me?” she says, too sharp.

The pause is so long she almost thinks the call dropped.

“I felt like calling Yuko-chan,” says Victor, all soft and _earnest_. “I hadn’t meant to hit your number the first time, but the second time I did it on purpose.”

Okay. No more questions. Another moment to put into the box when she’s done holding it with all her strength.

She sighs. “Well. Hi.”

“Hi!”

Several sentences fight to be the first out of her mouth. “Thank you for taking such good care of Yuri.”

No answer.

“It means a lot to me.”

“I’m glad,” he says, but she keeps going.

“I know you love him. He loves you too, I know he does. He’s gotten so strong thanks to you. You’ve brought out everything good in him. He shines so much more brightly now.” When did she start crying? “I-I… I lo--”

“I wouldn’t have met Yuri without your support.”

Her jaw drops, mouth working uselessly.

“You ignited his love for skating, Yuko-chan. That set him on the path he still walks now. The path that led him to the banquet. I’m so grateful that he has you in his life.” Victor’s voice is steady and sure now, low and warm in her ear. “I’m so lucky to know you.”

 _What banquet?_ The thought is washed away by the words that come out without permission. “I had a crush on you.”

_I still do. It isn’t a crush anymore._

She half-groans, half-screams into her pillow.

But Victor is laughing, gently, and when he speaks again something in his tone goes straight for her heart. “Yuri said the same thing. I… I wanted to kiss him when he told me. I didn’t. But I wanted to.”

She hardly dares to breathe. And she still can’t keep her mouth shut. “He probably wouldn’t mind.”

“Hmm.” His voice seems even closer. “I wouldn’t mind giving you one either.”

“You could,” she squeaks, then buries her face in her pillow again.

She will never get tired of hearing his laugh. “It’s time to say good night, Yuko-chan.”

The line goes silent.

She stares down her phone in disbelief. “...Victor?”

He’s gone, just like that. This must be a dream--

She stifles a shriek when her phone buzzes again. It’s a message from Victor: one kissy face emoji.

Before she can stop herself, she sends a heart back.

In the morning, the messages are still there.

**thirteen**

It’s illogical when she wasn’t even around, but Yuko feels terribly guilty about Makkachin. She holds it in, knowing the guilt the Katsukis feel must be far worse.

Yuri calls her around a half hour after Mari calls him (Yuko’s never seen her so choked up). “Take care of him,” he says as soon as she picks up.

That’s the least she can do. It’s all she can do. 

She goes to the airport and waits for him. Her old self would have fainted from the tight, almost-too-long hug he gives her; present Yuko is stronger than that.

“Any news?” he says when she’s staring at her phone on the train.

“No.” She touches his hand, a small gasp coming out when he grips it hard. “Sorry. I’m just worried, so I...” She shrugs one shoulder. “Do you want to talk?”

“Not really,” he says, with a single rueful chuckle.

An idea comes to her. One more secret for the box. “I want to try something. Tell me if it’s not okay.” And she tilts her head, keeping her eyes on his until she can’t because her head is on his shoulder.

He tenses, but stays quiet. Then, gradually, he relaxes.

Feeling bold, she allows her eyes to close, only to open them in shock at Victor’s hand, smoothing over her hair.

“It’s okay,” he whispers.

When they get off the train, he holds her hand until they’re within sight of the vet’s. 

“Thank you,” he says, breaking into a run.

She sits on a nearby bench until the cold gets to be too much, at which point she goes inside and keeps Mari company in the waiting room.

Her phone pings in her bag. Yuri’s tone.

_Is he okay?_

**I think so.**

_I miss him… :(_

“Oh, Yuri.” **Then you should text him, not me <3**

_I can’t bother him with Makkachin_

**okay okay, I’ll tell him.**

_Thank you~ xoxo_

_xx_

Victor emerges from… wherever he went. Brief panic rises, then fades-- _I was supposed to protect him, wait what--_ but it gets her out of the chair anyway.

“She said--” The vet. “Makka will be fine. He’s…” He puts a hand to his mouth. “He’s alive.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Joy and relief lance through her, and her arms are around him before she’s aware. But he hugs her back, laughing, holding her as they move in a half circle.

Her lips somehow find his. It’s only a second. Then a few more seconds when he kisses her back.

Yuko rears back, pulling out of his arms. “I’m sorry. I got-- it-- I’m happy for you.” What is _wrong_ with her?

“I’m not,” Victor says. “Sorry, I mean.”

There isn’t an answer for that. For some reason, she smiles anyway. Then humiliation itches at her and she whips around to look at Mari.

Mari looks back, blank-faced. “What?” she says, eyebrow raised. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Did she just wink?

“Thank god Makka’s okay,” she adds, nodding at Victor. She has the good grace to attempt a bow while sitting. “Please forgive us.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Victor’s voice is in sync with hers.

Mari smiles.

“Oh.” She holds up her phone to Victor, wincing internally at her white knuckles. “Yuri says he misses you.”

There’s something achingly sweet in his smile. “Tell him I miss him too.”

~~~~~

Yuko goes with Victor to Hasetsu airport, ignoring how her entire being screams that she should have let him go alone.

She’s become adept at ignoring a lot of things.

In the lobby, Victor paces and paces, Makkachin keeping stride. It isn’t helping Yuko keep her own emotions under control. “Why don’t you go sit down?” She puts her hand on his shoulder, squeezes it briefly. “You’ll have a better view, anyway.”

The smile he gives her promptly goes into The Box, and-- “Sit with me,” he says, clasping her hand.

“It isn’t my place.” The thought is so forceful, even though it’s untrue, that it’s impossible for her not to voice it.

“Of course it is.” He puts two fingers over her mouth when she opens it to protest, his eyes soft. “I won’t hear another word.”

His fingers are gone before she can give into the overpowering urge to kiss them.

They sit with an empty seat between them, Victor bouncing his leg and Yuko fiddling with her jacket zipper. Makkachin settles against her legs.

She’s staring at the arrival board when Makka takes off, running for the windows. Victor’s up and after him in a flash, leaving Yuko glued to her seat as she strains for a glimpse of Yuri.

They’re running in parallel for the lobby door. Yuko put her chin in her hand and watches.

The emotion she feels as Yuri runs into Victor’s arms, as they hold each other so tightly, is a gentle wave, a sunrise, too amorphous to have a name.

(That’s a lie. She’s too afraid to name it.)

Even with that emotion, she feels like a child as they come toward her arm in arm; she wants to run away, to close her eyes so they can’t see her. Instead, when Victor says “Yuko! Come here!” and Yuri smiles so widely, she goes to them. She returns their embrace. She lets herself be selfish out loud with them, just this once.

(Except it’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last time.)

**fourteen**

“Oh, my god. Yuri!”

Yuko grips his hand with both of hers, her nose close enough to bump his ring finger. “I can’t believe it! Congratulations!”

“It was a Christmas-birthday gift,” he stammers, grabbing her arm with his other hand.

“Don’t tell me you’ve set a date.”

“It’s not like-- ow!”

She pulls her flicking hand away, staring him down. “You’re not going to lie to me, Yuri,” she says fiercely. “Not now. Not after _everything._ ”

Emotions flit over his face. Finally, he looks down. He says, “Sometime next year. Maybe summer. Or maybe later.” He looks up. He’s determined, again. “I want to finish this season first. Take things one day at a time. You know?”

“Yeah.” She nods, once, twice. “I know.” She hugs him, tucking her face into his hoodie. “I’m so happy for you, Yuri.”

And she means it with all her heart. But she’s sad, too, and feeling that way makes her even sadder.

“Yuko. I love you.”

The pain in his voice shocks her enough to pull back and look at him. Tears are rolling down his cheeks; he’s trying to wipe them away.

“I love you too,” she says. She can’t hold back her own tears. “I know I was your first idol, but Victor was your first love. And you…” _You were mine._ She shakes her head, bites her lip until she starts to taste blood. “You light up when you’re around him, and I can’t explain it, but every time I see you with him I feel so happy it’s hard to think. You’re meant to be with him. I want that for you, okay?” 

She’s crying in earnest now, cradling his face, kissing his cheeks, and he’s crying with her. 

“What about you?”

A sob breaks free, but she chokes back the rest. “You… you were my first everything. Thank you so much. Thank you!”

“Yuko. Yuko,” he says, desperately. “You deserve to be happy too. If anyone does, you do.”

She tells him she is, over and over, and she means it every time.

**fifteen**

A week before Yuko turns twenty-seven, Yuri comes back to Hasetsu with Victor.

The new life their little town was granted from Hot Springs on Ice, along with Yuri’s continuing fame, has done wonders. Yu-topia Katsuki is no longer the only hot springs resort, though it’s still by far the most popular; they can afford more employees now, and pay them more too, which is great because the help is sorely needed. Even with a few renovations and some carefully curated new construction, they’re booked months out.

Business has boomed at Ice Castle too, and Yuko’s got her hands full even with Takeshi, the girls, and _their_ new employees. If she had to run the socials on top of that she would tear her hair out, but Axel, Lutz, and Loop handle all that flawlessly. With their twelfth birthday gift money they sprang for two new phones; not to replace their own, Loop explained, but to have dedicating devices for running Yu-topia’s social media (Lutz) and Ice Castle’s (Axel.) Loop oversaw them, all while collaborating with her sisters.

It makes Yuko’s head spin if she thinks about it for more than two minutes. She’s just happy they’ve found their calling too.

“Did Yuri text you?”

She’s just finished a nice workout with Satoko and Takeshi. Apparently a little quiet after the music is too much to ask.

“Huh?” She looks up from her phone from where she’s sprawled over the bench in Ice Castle back room. “I, uh…”

“You’re smiling,” Takeshi says, giving a grin of his own from the floor.

“And blushing,” says Satoko into the wall she’s stretching against.

“Satchan,” she whines, dragging it out. “You can’t even see me.”

“Well, you’re blushing really loudly.” 

The jig is up. “Okay, fine, it’s Yuri!” And Victor. She sits up and hunches over her phone, glowering. “What’s it to you, anyway.”

_We’re here! \^0^/_

**_Yes we’re here :D_ **

_I can’t wait to see you xoxo~_

“You should pay them a visit.” Takeshi sounds very cheerful. It’s suspicious. 

“Yes, why don’t you?” Satoko sits on the floor with her legs straight out, bending forward carefully.

Yuko groans at them and flips onto her back. “I’m being attacked,” she mutters, putting her phone over her face. But a smile is persistently pulling at her.

“You haven't seen them in, what, nearly three years.” Takeshi’s face comes into view upside down. “I’m sure you have a lot to talk about!”

“You’d be surprised…”

“Just go, silly,” Satoko cajoles. “We’ll be all over them when they come by for dinner.”

“And your party’s coming up.”

“I know. Thanks for reminding me,” she says flatly. She really can’t stop smiling. “All right. Just for you guys, I’ll go.”

“Thank you very much,” they say, both bowing.

She slaps Takeshi’s shoulder and tugs Satoko’s hair for good measure on her way out.

~~~~~

Victor and Yuri have a room on the second floor of the newly finished hotel near Hasetsu Bay. She texts random emojis back and forth with Yuri during the walk over; it turns into a jog halfway through thanks to the giddy energy racing through her veins.

Yuri sees her in the lobby before she sees him, nearly knocking her over when he hugs her, laughing infectiously the whole time.

“Victor’s upstairs,” he says, adjusting his drooping jacket. “Didn't want to attract too much attention.”

“How are you managing? It’s _your_ hometown!”

“Honestly?” His face scrunches a bit while he thinks. “I’m not sure. After the airport everyone was really respectful of my space.” He gives a lopsided smile. “Let’s go up before my luck runs out.”

On the elevator, he shows her some video clips taken during their journey back. When the door rings open, her feet seem to have been nailed to the floor.

“Yuko?” Yuri turns back, halfway off. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She crosses her arms, tries to look at him and finds she can’t. “I… I don’t know.”

His hand around hers is warm. His smile is warmer. “It’s just us,” he says. “You know us.”

Her eyes are drawn to his ring. “Yeah.”

She lets him pull her down the hall to his room. “Did you bring Makkachin?”

He fishes the key card from his pocket, murmuring no. “He’s at home with a friend.” 

Then the door clicks open, and Yuri says, “We’re back.”

Through a short hallway, into the suite, Yuri leading. It’s a lovely room, with a big window, a table with chairs, couches. The TV’s on, sound up, but it blips into silence when she and Yuri come into Victor’s view. He _beams_ at them, and it knocks Yuko pleasantly off-balance.

“You’re here,” he says gaily, pulling Yuri in for a kiss. He turns to Yuko and leans into her arms, still smiling. “Welcome, Yuko.” He dropped the honorific a couple of months after the engagement. It’s still a small shock when she hears it.

He kisses her cheek, and maybe she won’t wash her face tonight.

She notices the fancy docking station and starts oohing and aahing, which leads Victor to demonstrate. “It’s a radio too!” They listen to billboard hits for a while, shooting the breeze and munching on snacks. Soon Yuri switches to his iPod, choosing quiet contemplative piano. “Cozy snowstorm music,” he says. “Good for things other than snowstorms.” Yuko feels soothed instantly; strange, because she didn’t realize she needed soothing.

“Let’s have some drinks,” Victor proclaims.

“What are we celebrating?” She’s giggling already and hasn’t even touched the alcohol.

“Whatever we want,” Yuri says, holding his shot glass out to Victor.

“Hmm.” She stares down the label so she can pretend she’s not staring down Victor’s hand. “The week before my birthday. Yuri coming back. Your second anniversary?”

She squeaks; she can’t help it. Having chosen that moment to look up, she sees a flush over Victor’s cheeks and nose. She’s never seen him blush. It’s like seeing a unicorn.

Yuri’s probably seen him blush a lot.

“Not yet.” Yuri moves to hug him from behind, chin settling on his head. “In September.”

“Still worthy of celebrating!” She raises her glass, sharing a nod with Victor before downing it.

“Oh, wait, I’m behind.” Yuri slugs his down with a hearty sigh.

“Another round!”

And another, and another. The TV goes on at some point, and they watch whatever flashy action movie is halfway through. Two more shots and Yuko starts to feel loopy, listing shamelessly against Yuri as he descends into slumber.

She startles awake an undefined amount of time later. Yawning expansively, she peels herself off of Yuri, who’s flat out on the floor, and rubs at her eyes. “Was I out long?” she slurs at Victor, yawning again. “And is Yuri okay?”

“Only around…” He squints at the TV clock. “Ten minutes.” He passes her a water glass and pours another shot for them both. “Yuri’s fine. He hasn’t had too much. Probably jetlegged.”

She gulps down some water, excuses herself to the bathroom, and settles herself next to Victor when she comes back. “Last one for me,” she says, clinking her glass to Victor.

They turn back to the TV for a while. It’s some incomprehensible game show Yuko soon loses interest in in favor of her own thoughts. She’s too fuzzy to follow those for long, though, and so her attention turns to her senses. The too-bright TV screen, its low rumble competing with Yuri’s playlist; the vodka weighing down her tongue; the warmth of Victor next to her and Yuri a bit farther away; the soft carpet underneath her, the tingle of Victor’s gaze.

Looking at him confirms it. He’s watching her.

Blinking, she sits up properly, still close but not leaning against him. That look is intimately familiar; it’s the same one she’s seen so often when he gazes intensely at Yuri’s routines. Except he's studying _her_ now, and she doesn’t know how she feels about that. The vodka doesn’t allow her to shrink away like she wants to. Instead she makes a questioning noise, feels an unsure smile forming on her mouth.

“You and Yuri have so much more in common than you think, Yuko,” he says, so gently.

One hand finds the table; she slides her forearm onto it, abruptly feeling the need for balance. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she mumbles. She can’t stop looking into his eyes. She finds the TV remote, switching it off by feel, and she can breathe easier in the low light and the dreamy music.

Then she can’t, because suddenly there’s no gap between them. His forehead is touching hers. He breathes in, eyes half-lidded, and says, “Then I'll show you.”

Somehow, time both slows to a crawl and moves shatteringly fast. Victor is kissing her, and she is kissing him back. The same mouth Yuri's has touched is now touching hers. He kisses like a man drowning but what about Yuri? Has something happened between them? Why now? Why _her?_

The questions are powerless against years of repressed desire, against flighty teenage dreams coming true.

His arms are around her; she has one arm around him; his lips are so soft, his tongue against her mouth so warm. She whimpers and lets him in, and the quiet moan he makes races down her spine. _Victor, Victor, Victor…_

“Victor…?”

Yuri is awake.

Her blood runs cold, even as hot needles of shame prickle over her back. She jerks away from Victor’s mouth, whiplashing to look at Yuri, trying to stand and _get away_ except Victor’s fingers on her arm might as well be shackles.

“I-I-I’m sorry—”

He glances at her, then looks at Victor with disappointment that seizes her chest and she absolutely wants to _die_ —

“Did you ask her?” Yuri squiggles to a sitting position and slides next to Yuko. “Did he ask you?” He blinks, still sleepy, even after seeing them. 

_Why is he so close when I was just making out with his husband?!_ “Ask me…?” She can barely get the words out around the lump in her throat.

“Did he ask you before he kissed you?”

A beat of silence before she croaks out a flat, “What.”

“Ah, sorry, Yuri. I got a bit carried away.” 

She turns to see Victor wearing an apologetic smile. “What?” she squeaks.

“We didn’t think this through,” Yuri murmurs, looking at her with warm eyes. “Sorry, Yuko.”

She wants to ask why he’s sorry, what’s happening, but she’s too confused to do anything but stare at him. Yuri who’s worrying his bottom lip, Yuri whose cheeks are growing pink. 

The liquor’s still warm in her stomach. Victor’s hand is still on her arm. She wants more than anything to kiss Yuri despite the consequences clanging in her head. If she’s dreaming, then no harm; if she isn’t…

She _doesn't care._

She fumbles for Yuri’s shoulder and pulls him in. The box inside of her unlocks; she’s filled with everything at once, holding him for dear life.

He _sighs_ into her mouth, and her mind goes utterly blank.

The next thing she’s aware of is Victor’s lips on her shoulder, her top pulled down. Her groan is muffled against Yuri’s mouth, and Yuri’s arm leaves her to reach for him too, while his tongue presses searchingly against her lips.

She presses her tongue along his, whimpering continuously, Victor’s mouth trailing fire over the back of her neck. “Oh…” She gasps when Yuri releases her, and she leans into his shoulder, shivering from Victor’s touch.

“Let’s go to bed,” he whispers into her hair. “Yuri?”

She feels his lips on her temple. “I want to. Come on, Yuko.”

It’s like she’s fallen overboard. “I don’t know,” she says into his neck. “I don’t know.”

“Look at me, please.” 

She does. At his swollen mouth, at his big, hopeful, trusting eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Victor moves to be in front of her too, one arm slung around Yuri.

“Nothing, I don’t think.” What _is_ wrong? She searches for words. “I just… it’s so unexpected. Overwhelming. I-I want to, but--” She laughs, incredulous over her reticence. “I don’t think I can… yet.”

“It’s okay,” they both say, except Victor calls her ‘sweetheart’ and Yuri smiles at him, and what the hell happened that she’s allowed to have this?

“If you two want to…” She ducks her head, face flaming. “Maybe…”

The boxes she’s carried inside her disintegrate.

“I want to watch.” She lifts her head and stares resolutely at them. “Is that okay?”

“Let’s try it.” Yuri kisses her forehead, then gets up, holding a hand out to each of them.

They move in a line into the bedroom. She shares one last heated kiss with each of them before sinking into a chair in the corner.

Yuri kisses Victor with gasps and moans in between, helping him undress without even looking. Victor returns the favor, grabbing lube from the bedside table once they’re both naked.

Haltingly, Yuko’s hand travels into her pants.

Victor’s back and shoulders are resplendent in the lamplight. She wants to touch every inch of him. The possibility of the in the future drenches her panties; she squirms, surprised.

His glutes tighten as he slides into Yuri and holds his legs up effortlessly.

She slides a finger into herself to the sounds of Yuri’s moan.

They take their time-- starting slow, speeding up, back down to rock against each other. It thrills her to remember Yuri’s noises when he’s close to orgasm; it nearly stops her heart to hear how Victor sounds.

They only have eyes for each other. That’s what it seems like until Victor says her name.

“You’re still watching, aren’t you?” His voice is wrecked, an unimaginable gift. “Come with us.”

“Yuko,” Yuri calls, reaching across the bed toward her.

She pulls her hand from her pants and watches them go over the edge. Yuri first, his cries muffled in a kiss, and Victor right after.

The only sounds are their panting breaths and her pounding heart.

A few minutes later, Victor catches her eyes. He beckons her, and Yuri says, “Yuko, cuddle.”

Of course she joins them.

“Right here,” Yuri says, as Victor pulls her down between them.

“What can we do for you?” he asks.

“It’s okay, really.” She’s still sticky, but the prospect of taking a nap snuggled between them is far more enticing. 

“Are you… absolutely certain?” His tone is teasing. She bets he’s wearing a smirk, the panty-dropping kind.

She arches into his hand as it runs over her chest.

“Let us help you,” Yuri pleads, rubbing circles over her stomach.

She moans out a yes. “But…” She stops him from unzipping her jersey. “Leave it this time.”

“Next time,” Victor murmurs against her lips.

Yuri nestles into her side. “Next time we’ll undress you.“

In the end, she comes around Victor’s fingers, Yuri’s mouth at her neck.

~~~~~

“I’m afraid,” she whispers into the dark, after, because her mind refuses to quiet.

Yuri rolls toward her, a hand going to her hair. “Why?”

“Because… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if this is okay. This, us, it’s something I’ve wanted but I don’t know if-- if I’m allowed to have it.” Her throat feels tight. She’s probably not making sense. She keeps talking anyway, “I might do something wrong and-- you could disappear. If I wake up and this is all a dream...” She laughs wetly. “I couldn’t bear it.”

“You’re not dreaming,” Victor says fervently, taking her hand. “None of us are.”

“We aren’t leaving you either,” says Yuri. “I’ve missed you, Yuko. I talked about it with Victor.” His ring catches light as he reaches across her, fingers twining with his husband’s. 

“But I’ve been—”

“Not just since I left Hasetsu,” he interrupts. “Before then. You were... moving further and further away from me during the Grand Prix, but I didn’t realize that until later. Until I realized I love you the exact same way I love Victor. And it took a long time to realize that _is_ okay. I love you, Yuko.”

It dawns on her, the answer to a question she asked herself long ago, and she can’t speak.

“And I…” Victor’s fingers glance over her jaw. “I like you. Very much.” 

Somehow, hearing “like” over “love” is a comfort. It’s too soon, as much as she wants to hear it. There’s fear mixed in with desire, the sense that she doesn’t deserve any of this.

“Through Yuri I feel like I know you, but... I know that isn’t true.” He takes a breath, fingers curling. “It was so clear how important you are to Yuri, before I ever met you, from everything he told me. And when I arrived in Hasetsu… He lit up whenever he was around you. Whenever I saw you together, I felt so happy I could hardly think.” He laughs then, barely audible. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“I understand,” she whispers. Yuri squeezes her shoulder. “I understand completely.”

“So.” He kisses her softly, then lies back down beside her. “I want to get to know you. I’d... like to fall in love with you.”

“Oh.” Her breath shakes. “Y-Yes. That... I— I think—”

Victor’s thumb alights on her cheekbone, smoothing away a tear she hasn’t noticed, and that’s all it takes for her to start sobbing.

“I’m happy,” she insists, hands to her face. “I’m so happy…!”

When she’s cried herself out, when their arms around her have warmed her through, Yuko finds she has more to say. “I think I fell in love with you when I watched the cup of China,” she mumbles, blushing. “That was when I finally realized how much you loved Yuri.”

“When your crush leveled up.”

She can hear the gentle smile in his voice, and it makes her smile too.

They nap for an hour or so, however long it takes for the afternoon sun to awaken them. She makes herself presentable while the two of them lounge, then lazes with Yuri while Victor takes his turn.

By the time Yuri’s done, she’s full of energy. 

Victor adjusts his collar. “Are we ready to go see everyone?”

“Hang on.” She pushes Yuri to stand by Victor, nudging their hands together. Then she takes Yuri’s other side, his other hand. 

Yuri grins. “We’re ready now.”

He turns out the room light before they leave.

~~~~~

Yuko is twenty-seven, and she loves Yuri. She’s twenty-seven, and she loves Victor. 

She’s twenty-seven, and she loves Takeshi, and Satoko, and their daughters.

She’s twenty-seven, and she wears the ring Yuri gives her on her pinky, uses the journal planner from Victor every day, dances with each of them to her favorite songs after she makes a wish over her candles.

She’s twenty-seven, and the future is so bright it’s blinding.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. I invite and appreciate feedback, including:
> 
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> 
> I also reply to comments. But if you’d rather not receive a reply for any reason, sign your comment with “whisper” and I’ll just squee to myself about it. ^_^  
> Want/need help with something to write? [Find the LLF Comment Builder here!](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[moodboard for] winter covers everything](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26024056) by [Ashling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/pseuds/Ashling)
  * [winter covers everything ~ the playlist](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26073892) by [SapphireOcean (JujYFru1T)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JujYFru1T/pseuds/SapphireOcean)




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